


The first morning

by IJustMetAGirlNamedMaria (orphan_account)



Category: Head Over Heels - The Go-Go's/Whitty
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Why isn't there more hoh content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:33:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26344918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/IJustMetAGirlNamedMaria
Summary: The morning after Mopsa came home from Lesbos and confessed her feelings. :)
Relationships: Mopsa/Pamela
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	The first morning

Pamela woke inches from Mopsa's face. Suddenly she was wide awake, not an easy task for her in the morning. Mopsa was always awake before her, and asleep after. Pamela took in the sight. Mopsas braids ensnaked her head, her minimal makeup smudged from last night's events. Pamela smiled. Her morning haze melted as her heart swelled. She leaned down and kissed Mopsa on the forehead.  
"Good morning, beautiful."  
Mopsa's body twisted as it let go of the last few remnants of sleep. She groaned, coming alive like an old machine. Once she was, She sat up and looked around, giving the distinct impression of a puppy. Pamela giggled. Mopsas attention turned to her, her already sleep softened face loosening into a grin.  
"Good morning princess."  
Her voice was rough and low in the morning. Pamela looked away, suddenly feeling bashfully. Another first.  
Mopsa fell back on to her pillow, just staring at Pamela. She'd gotten stares of affection, even love before. This was the only one she never wanted to end.  
"Are you always like this in the morning?" Pamela asked. Mopsa frowned.  
"What, naked?"  
This took a second to register in Pamela's brain. She looked away on instinct, a heat she assumed translated into blush consuming her face. Mopsa tisked, but her face betrayed barely held back laughter.  
"Of that's the shocker of the last 24 hours, this may be quite the morning."  
Pamela jutting out her chin at her, eyes still closed for modesty. Mopsa kissed her quick on the lips. Pamela opened her eyes, surprised. Mopsa's face lacked the usual confidence. She looked almost cautious. Pamela returned the kiss. She pulled away and they lay there for a moment, smiling almost nose to nose. A smear of Pamela's lipstick colored the bottom lip.  
"I can't believe this is real." Mopsa whispered.  
"Me neither."  
Mopsa was in her bed, naked. Not elsewhere, not hating her. Not the customary five feet apart that was regular of a handmaiden. She was close enough to touch, to kiss.  
Mopsa brushed a piece of hair aside from Pamela's face. Her hand was warm, and calloused. Pamela looked at her and felt brave.  
"I'm in love with you. I don't think I told you last night but I am."  
Suprise flickered on Mopsa's face, replaced by a wide grin.  
"Ok."  
Pamela tilted her head, waiting. Mopsa leaned in to whisper it.  
"I'm in love with you too, Princess."  
Pamela smiled. She just stared for a moment at this woman, the love of her life, her first love, her best friend.  
Mopsa got out of bed much too quickly for Pamela's tastes. She whined, so Mopsa appeased her with a kiss.  
"Breakfast," Mopsa reminded her.  
"What is food when I have you? Stay."  
Pamela pouted.  
Mopsa laughed.  
"Princess, I've dealt with your pouts for years, that's not going to work on me."  
Pamela sat up, watching Mopsa gather her clothes from last night.  
The room was a mess. Pamela had torn it apart the night before, in a fit spurred by jealousy and heartbreak.  
"I have to apologize to Philoclea and Cleophila. I was so mean to them, when I was really just hurt over you."  
"We'll do that after breakfast. You know, I'm glad she's got a companion, I always sympathized with her and that shepard."  
"Why?"  
Mopsa paused and looked at her for a moment.  
"I knew what it was like, to fall in love outside your station."  
Mopsa's face was so full of all of their years. Every stolen look, every imagined kiss. All the sorrow that broke way to love and sorrow again. Pamela suddenly felt the weight of her past obliviousness around her throat.  
"Oh."  
Pamela looked down, the feelings of guilt washing over her.  
"I kind of fell apart without you."  
"No one to clean up after you?" Mopsa teased. Pamela started a smile but her face betrayed her.  
"No, emotionally. I don't even think I realized," she looked around the room at all the wreckage, then at Mopsa. "I was so heartbroken and I hurt everyone-" Pamela quickly whipped a tear that threatened to fall.  
"Hey, hey." Mopsa sat down next to her.  
"You can't do anything about the past. We made mistakes, all you can do is move forward."  
"Mopsa I'm sorry I-"  
"I'm sorry I left you. I'm sorry I pressured you into figuring things out. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. See, I have things to be sorry about, too. You're ok. You're going to be ok."  
Pamela rested her head on Moplsa's shoulder.  
"I was so stupid. I've been in love with you for months and I never realized it."  
Mopsa looked at her with the softest of looks.  
"You're here now. And so am I. Let's get some food in you, ok?"  
Pamela nodded. She stood up. Mopsa went to get her clothes.  
"No, I can do it."  
Mopsa watched her, surprised, as she dressed herself. The dress was a light pink, one of her less formal gowns. It was one of her favorites. Her and Mopsa had picked it out together at the market last month. It felt like years ago, that day. She remembered watching Mopsa overtip a waiter. Smile in the sun. Wave to a small kid that gaped at Pamela. She remembered thinking that any of the suitors were nothing compared to her. She remembered thinking if only she could marry her best friend. Mopsa told a joke as they walked down uneven cobblestone and Pamela had thought maybe there was someone more beautiful than her in the world. The pink dress seemed to carry the sent of that day. She had tucked it in the bottom of her clothes chest.  
She hadn't been able to wear half her wardrobe without Mopsa. Some articles were too complex to put on alone, while others, like this one, it was the memory that was too complex.  
"Enjoying the view?" She said over her shoulder.  
"You missed a button." She could hear the smile in Mopsa's voice as she walked over. Her steady hands fixed the last of the hard to reach buttons. She arranged the lace up front. Pamela watched her work, brow furrowed in concentration. She sucked in ber bottom lip a little and Pamela fell in love all over again.  
Pamela lifted Mopsa's chin, kissing her gently. Pamela was a few inches taller, even when Mopsa had her heels on.  
"Beautiful." Mopsa whispered.  
Pamela smiled.  
"I think I've heard that before."  
Mopsa rolled her eyes and took her hand.  
"Princess, I'm starving, can we go?"  
Pamela allowed herself to be taken away. 

Once they were out the door of the tent, Mopsa assumed her usual position a few feet behind her. Pamela turned back and grabbed her hand.  
"New rule. No more maiden or princess things. You walk by my side, like my suitor."  
"Is that what I am?" She teased.  
"You also mustn't call me princess."  
"What do I call you?"  
Pamela leaned in to whisper it as they passed a group of guards.  
"My love. Sweetness. Goddess Aphrodite, only on special occasions." Mopsa rolled her eyes, but she smiled all the same. "Pamela, Pam, Ella. Any variation. Just not princess."  
Mopsa turned to Pamela. They were nose to nose. Neither pulled away.  
"Alright, Darling, I have some questions, then." Pamela felt dizzy with the proximity.  
"Ok." Pamela drew herself up.  
"What am I to you, if not your handmaiden?"  
"What do they say in Lesbos for women like us?"  
Mopsa thought about this for a moment.  
"Lovers. Partners. Girlfriends."  
"All of those will do."  
"What do you call me?"  
"My own. My love, (that one goes both ways.) My dear."  
"I'll take it."  
"Mopsy,"  
"Absolutely not."  
"You still won't budge!" Pamela had been trying that nickname for years. Mopsa laughed. Pamela could listen to that sound forever. It suddenly occurred to her that she could say that. No more private thoughts she tried to forget. She could tell her what she meant to her.  
"I love your laugh."  
"Just for you, my love."  
They walked in comfortable silence for a moment. A thought suddenly occurred to Pamela.  
"Have you ever had a girlfriend before? You know I haven't, but have you?"  
Mopsa hesitated.  
"I don't want you to feel jealous."  
"My question comes from a place of curiosity, not jealousy."  
"Yes and no. I've taken lovers before, village girls who wanted adventures. I've stolen kisses, and gone on dates. But no. I've never had a girlfriend."  
Pamela hummed. There was so much she didn't know about Mopsa. "It was hard to keep one, when I was so in love with someone else." She stated it so matter of fact.  
Pamela tilted her head to the sun. Mopsa turned to ask her a question.  
"Have you ever-"  
"Oh no. I haven't even kissed anyone except you."  
"You'd never kissed anyone at all before last night?"  
Pamela frowned.  
"No, I kissed you before last night. Remember, our practice kisses?"  
Mopsa laughed.  
"Oh no, I remember those. It's a terrible position, to be 11, questioning your sexuality, and have the cause of said crisis ask to kiss you."  
"Oh no!" Pamela laughed. Mopsa watched her, smiling.  
"It's alright."  
Pamela turned to her.  
"You know, that really should have been a sign I liked girls."  
Mopsa chuckled.  
"I always thought you might've."  
"Really?" "Yeah. I dismissed it as wishful thinking, but you never seemed to notice suitors. And you were always extra admirable of certain court ladies."  
Pamela blushed.  
"The whole time I should have just looked next to me." "The past is in the past, my love."  
"I like it when you can me that."  
"I like calling you it."  
They'd arrived at the cook tent, bustling with the noble families. Pamela felt dread. She'd forgotten about the rest of camp. She couldn't exactly come out like this. Mopsa saw her face and squeezed her hand gently. "I don't want to let go of your hand," Pamela whispered "I don't want to pretend like I don't love you." Mopsa looked at her for a second. She let go of Pamela's hand and ducked into the tent. Pamela stood there for a second. She was alone for the first time since Mopsa came back. Her heart ached.  
Mopsa emerged with a basket full of food, and a mischievous grin on her face. She grabbed Pamela's hand and took off running towards the forest. Pamela ran with her, tripping and giggling all the way. They ended at the edge of the woods, by a stream. The company by the camp could still be heard, but they were blocked from view. Mopsa took off her jacket and lay it on the grass for Pamela to sit.  
"Thank you, my love."  
"Of course, darling."  
Pamela smiled, letting the sun warm her face. She turned, and Mopsa was staring at her.  
"What?"  
"I love you," Mopsa said softly.  
"I love you too. What food did you find?"  
Mopsa took out the food, a collection of berries and breads.  
"On Lesbos they had the most delicious food."  
"What was it like there?"  
"I spent the time wandering the city and on the beach, trying to distract myself. It was gorgeous, but I've never felt so alone in my life. Someday we'll go back together and I can properly enjoy the city." Pamela moved closer, laying her head on Mopsa's shoulder. "That sounds nice."  
"What was it like here?"  
Pamela looked at the sky.  
"Terrible. I was rude to everyone. Philoclea didn't want to spend time with me and I hated her for that. The camp felt so loud and so lonely. I knew what was wrong but I didn't want to acknowledge it, so I took it out on everyone. You're the only person in camp that likes me now, I'm sure."  
"Well I do like you."  
"I missed you so much."  
"I missed you too."  
Mopsa kissed her softly. Pamela whispered between kisses.  
"I missed your jokes. And they way you call me on my problems. I missed your conversation. I missed looking at you. I missed your temper. I missed your eyes."  
Mopsa made her way down Pamela's neck, and when she got too flustered to respond, Mopsa began.  
"I missed your arguments. I missed the way you can't lie. I missed your terrible poetry. I missed your questions. I missed your pride. I missed your little observations about the world that change everything. I missed the way you move your hands when you talk. I missed how sure of yourself you are."  
She stopped at her neckline, bringing herself back up to one searing kiss.  
"I didn't know what to do without you."  
Pamela felt dizzy at the proximity.  
"Only you could leave me at a loss for words." She said. Mopsa smiled. Their noses were touching. Mopsa pulled back, and dug out a small loaf of bread. She ripped it in half and handed half to Pamela. Pamela looked at her askance for a moment before taking it. They sat together, eating breakfast. A thought occurred to her.  
"How did you know? That you where…" she trailed off, waving her hand vaguely.  
"Queer? Gay? Sapphic? You can say it dear."  
"Those things."  
Mopsa rolled her eyes.  
"I think I always knew. I never really got the whole attracted to men thing, and I always liked girls. We met when we were, what, 11?"  
"Around then. When I got too old for a nanny."  
"Right. You were always a bit of a flirt, even back then. It was just a crush. It took me a bit to realize it."  
"You hid it remarkably well."  
"No, you just think everybody is in love with you." She laughed.  
"Ouch."  
"Sorry, my love, it's true. Anyway. I always loved you a little, I think."  
Mopsa looked at her, thinking. Pamela looked back.  
"When did you know?"  
"I don't know, I just thought it was normal to not actually be attracted to men. I always knew I was going to marry one, I just didn't think about it really. It was only after my poem reading when you confronted me and I had words for the feelings. It was so much harder to ignore so..."  
"We both said things, my love."  
Pamela took a breath.  
"Then after you left. Your father and I talked."  
"My father?"  
"He said he knew love troubles. He talked about your mother."  
"Oh no."  
"He was so in love. The way he talked about her- and after she left- it was how I felt about you. Give or take. I wasn't actually angry at you after the first few days, I was angry at myself. I realized what a fool I'd been."  
Pamela said.  
"You're no fool. At least not with this."  
Mopsa added, teasing.  
"I think we were both fools."  
"Or that, too."  
Mopsa chuckled. She tossed her head, and her braids fell back. Pamela, not for the first time, momentarily forgot how to breathe.  
"What?" Asked Mopsa.  
"You're beautiful."  
Mopsa made a face and leaned in for a kiss, which Pamela met.  
She thought there, in that moment, that no day could possibly be better than this.


End file.
